


Pierced Through the Heart

by Nyssa



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-10
Updated: 2010-10-10
Packaged: 2017-10-12 14:12:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/125706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyssa/pseuds/Nyssa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The guys put a ring on it.  More than one, actually.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pierced Through the Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2010 Kink Bingo. Prompt was "piercings/needleplay." This fic is set in the present day, so S&H are older, but just as cute. :-)

I swear to God, the kid had more holes in his head than a golf course.

Earrings. Not just one in each ear, and not just on the lobes. He had 'em going all the way up on both sides, little silver rings that glittered when the candlelight caught them. Another silver loop in the right eyebrow, one through the left nostril, one in his lower lip, and – I swear – a little gold stud in his tongue. I saw that one when Hutch gave him his order, shrimp scampi. I couldn't tell if the kid was licking his lips because the shrimp scampi's delicious, or because Hutch is.

"Did you see that?" I asked, after he took our menus and sauntered off. "It must take him an hour to put all that junk in every morning. Who the hell has time for that?"

Hutch shrugged and sipped his drink. "Some people value beauty over convenience, Starsk."

"What's beautiful about poking yourself full of holes? Jeez, his head's more air than flesh."

"Not just his head. His nipples, too."

I choked a little on my wine. "His nipples? You were looking at his nipples?"

"He's wearing a very thin, clingy shirt. Couldn't you see the nipple rings?"

"No, I was blinded by all that other metal." I bit a hunk out of a buttered roll. "You were looking at his nipples, and he was drooling all over you. This has been a really fun evening so far, pal."

He made that little snorting noise he makes when he thinks I'm being ridiculous. "Drooling all over me, huh?"

I shrugged. "Sure he was. Why wouldn't he?" Listen, a guy as gorgeous as my partner, I'm only surprised when people _don't_ lose their shit over him. And a little pissed off, too. Can't the idiots see what I see?

"Because I'm an old man, Starsk, that's why. We're here to celebrate paying off a thirty-year mortgage, remember? You and me, buddy, we've been around a while."

I looked him right in the eye. "I'll take my old man and that free and clear house of ours over some kid with stainless steel tits any day."

His eyes got real soft when I said that. He raised his wine glass. I raised mine, too, and we clinked them. "Me and thee," we said, together.

 

*****

 

Hutch likes having his nipples licked. And sucked. And kissed. And bitten real, real lightly. I don't mind doing it because – well, mainly because I don't mind doing anything Hutch likes, except camping out in the middle of some godforsaken wilderness with snakes and no TV and mosquitoes munching on your dick every time you take a leak, and even that I'll go along with since it's kinda fun sharing a sleeping bag. But also, Hutch's nipples are really, really cute. They're pink and crinkly and kinda long, and I like making them stand up straight. They're like two tiny little dicks, but you can't say a guy's dick is cute. Nobody wants to hear that. Nipples can be cute, though.

Anyway, that night we were in bed and I was licking one nipple and stroking the other with my thumb (he likes that, too), and he was sighing and holding the back of my head and rubbing my left calf with his foot, and I suddenly thought, what if Hutch had rings through _his_ tits? What would it feel like to him, or to me?

It was a weird thought, and it kinda threw me off track for a second. I lost my rhythm, my tongue and my thumb slowed down, and Hutch squirmed and said, "Come on, come on," with a little whine in his voice.

I like that whine. I love making him selfish, making him greedy, making him want more and more of whatever I'm giving him. He's not a selfish person. He always wants to give and give, especially to me, so it feels good getting him to just take what he needs and forget for a while about giving back.

But I wanted to ask him, so I pulled away. "Hutch, you ever thought about getting these pierced?" I touched one of the little suckers to show him what I meant.

He blinked, twice, like the words were taking a while to sink in. "Pierced?"

"Yeah, like that waiter tonight. A lotta kids these days do that, don't they?"

"How should I know? I'm not a kid these days. Come on, Starsk, let's – "

"I think you should give it some serious thought," I said, dodging the grab he made for me. "I mean, just 'cause we're older doesn't mean we can't be hip."

"Hip? Starsky, what the hell are you talking about?"

"We used to be hip. Well, I was, anyway. You wore white socks and bought tiny little putt-putt cars that looked like they belonged to my great-Aunt Hildegarde, but – "

"You had a great-Aunt Hildegarde?"

" – but the point is, you're only as young as you feel, Hutch. You could get pierced just like all the cool kids."

"I could, huh?"

"Sure you could."

"Starsk, correct me if I'm wrong – "

"I always do."

" – but didn't you think that kid's piercings were ridiculous? Didn't you say what's beautiful about poking yourself full of holes?"

"Yeah, but he was taking it to extremes. He had the damn things all over the place. I'm just talking about two little rings. One in each of your sweet," – I kissed his left nipple – "little" – I kissed his right – "nips." I drew little circles around them both with my thumbs.

His eyes started getting hazy again.

"You're so sensitive here," I whispered. "The slightest little touch" – I touched the tip of my tongue to one – "and you just melt."

"Mmm," he said. "Other one."

I licked the other one. "Remember the first time I did this to you?"

He smiled through half-closed eyes. "No. But I'm sure I liked it."

It was right after Kira, my last girlfriend. That was when we finally stopped having sex and started making love. Sounds pretty soapy, but that's the way it was. Before that, we just got each other off once in a while. After, we took our time and learned about each other. By the time I came back to work after the shooting and we bought the house together, I knew plenty about his nipples.

"You did like it. You always like it. Now just think how much you'd like it with rings through 'em. Think how sensitive they'd be then." I pinched them both, gently but firmly, and watched him toss his head on the pillow. "I bet I could suck on them and make you come, babe." He used to be able to do that sometimes, just from my mouth on his tits, but it's been years.

"I don't know about that," he said. He put out a hand and ran his fingers through my hair. "You really want me to do it?"

I took the hand and kissed it. "If you want to. I think it'd be fun."

He sighed. "I guess if I don't like it, I can take the rings out and let the holes close up."

"Sure. Doesn't have to be permanent."

He raised a finger. "One condition."

I saw a crafty look in his eye. "Uh-oh."

"You do it with me."

"Uh, you mean come with you and hold your hand?"

He didn't say anything.

I swallowed. "That's what you mean, right, Hutch?"

He touched my chest. "I've always thought your nipples are pretty damn cute, too, Starsk."

"Hutch, no. I can't do that."

"Scared, huh?"

I gave him a good glare. "There's no reason for me to do it. Mine aren't sensitive like yours." That's the truth. He likes to play with them sometimes, but it really doesn't do much for me. Never has, with anybody.

"But that's the whole point, Starsk. You said it yourself, the rings help with that. They'll make you more sensitive, more – responsive." His voice had dropped into that low, silky tone he uses sometimes, like when he slips his arms around me from behind and kisses my neck and asks me if I want to skip dinner and go straight to bed. That tone makes my spine feel like it's dissolving.

He started kissing my neck right then, dammit. He pulled me down on top of him and nuzzled and nipped and whispered things to me, and I said, "Okay, baby, yeah, okay, _yeah_." Or something like that. I wasn't thinking real clearly.

It was good that night. Always is, even after all these years. We're slower now, but we get there. I didn't think about the piercing thing again until I was almost asleep, lying there all warm and tired with his arm across my waist and his chest against my back. I could feel one nipple touching my shoulder blade, and I smiled.

 

*****

 

It didn't hurt – much. Okay, it did. It hurt like hell, actually, but I didn't yell because Hutch hadn't. He got his done first, and he turned real pale both times and clenched his teeth and almost broke my fingers squeezing my hand so hard, but he didn't make a sound, and I figured if he could keep quiet, as sensitive as his are, surely I could. Besides, we were giving everybody a big enough laugh as it was. We were about three times older than everyone else in the place, and the "professional piercer," Brittnee, who had purple hair, cobra tattoos on both arms, and a fourteen-karat gold (she said) safety pin stuck through her belly button, told us we were "adorable." She was pretty cute herself, but I didn't let her show me her clit ring.

It hurt later, too, but not too bad. We had a good time putting ice on each other and washing each other with "mild, antimicrobial soap," and checking each other for signs of infection. You can do all that stuff yourself, of course, you don't need someone to do it for you, but we liked it. We're used to taking care of each other. Sometimes I think that's one of the main things I miss now that we're retired. It used to scare the hell out of me whenever Hutch got hurt, but I never minded taking care of him after. It always made me feel really good, and I know he felt the same way.

We couldn't test the things out for a while. Before we had it done, we Googled "male nipple piercing," and everything we read said to wait at least two weeks before you let anybody have "oral contact" with the "affected area." Brittnee said the same thing (with a perfectly straight face, too). So even though we were pretty comfortable after the first few days, we had to find other ways to entertain ourselves. Which we did. It was actually fun, in a weird sorta way. Hutch said limitations make sex more exciting. Whatever. But I know he couldn't wait to get started.

And once we did get started – wow. I couldn't believe how good Hutch's tongue felt. He went real slow, real gentle, because we were kinda nervous; I mean, you don't get completely healed for months, even though you can play with them a lot sooner. He just licked me, a light, careful licking, one side and then the other, one side and then the other, and I was purring like a fuckin' kitten. I didn't get hard from it – I was already hard, I'm proud to say – and I didn't even come close to coming from it, but that didn't matter at all. It just felt so _good_. I didn't want him to stop, and I've never felt that way when anyone's played with my nipples before. Even with Hutch, I always liked it just because he liked doing it, not because I actually _liked_ it, if you see what I mean.

You should have seen his face when I started moaning. He just glowed. He knew I wasn't fakin' it.

So then I did him, and – well, it's a little hard to describe. It's easy for me to get choked up talking about Hutch and the way things are between us. If I talked about how he made me feel when he begged me for more while I was tugging with my teeth (very, very gently) on his right ring, or the way he said "Starsk," in that breathless, choked whisper when I sucked his swollen left nipple into my mouth (the rings make them bigger; harder, too), or the way he actually _came_ when I bit down a little on one and pressed hard on the other with my fingers (I wasn't too surprised, but I think he was shocked), or the tears I kissed off his face when we were done – I couldn't say those things without maybe crying myself. So I won't.

Anyway, it was great. We lay there for a long time after, just talking. Hutch said when everything's completely healed up, he wants us to go back to Brittnee and get the rings engraved with our initials and then exchange them, so I'd have the ones with KH and he'd have the ones with DS. Then if we ever get married (we're still talking about that) we won't have to buy wedding rings; we'll already have them. And they'll be rings we can wear _in_ our flesh, not just on top of it, and that'll make it mean more. Hutch is into symbolism.

And he said while we're at Brittnee's, he might get a Prince Albert.

Jesus.


End file.
